Falman at Briggs
by maryh10000
Summary: When Mustang's team was broken up, Vato Falman was sent to Briggs.
1. Prologue

Of all of Mustang's team to inherit, they'd gotten the most useless. No combat experience, no technical skills, no medical skills, not a mechanic, not an alchemist, not an engineer. The Fuhrer had sent them a bloody, good-for-nothing-else-but paper-pusher. Well, he'd make himself useful, just like everyone else here. Knocking down icicles.

"If he's one of Mustang's, there's more to him than that file shows," Major General Armstrong told him. "Keep an eye on him, Buccaneer."

* * *

Falman was at the indoor range practicing for the fifth day in a row and he wasn't even rated for combat.

"Falman," Buccaneer called, when he was finished.

He went over to the huge man with the automail right arm. "Yes sir?"

"Non-combat ratings are only authorized two days a week here and you're already at five."

"I'm sorry, sir. How can I get authorization for daily practice?" He imagined some set of forms to fill out.

"You need my permission and 10,000 centz for each extra session to cover the ammo."

"Very well sir," Falman responded. "May I have your permission then?"

Buccaneer was surprised. If Falman really did plan to practice daily, fifty thousand centz would be a nice chunk out of his Second Lieutenant's salary. "You got it. Tell the purser to deduct the money from your pay," he said.

* * *

The next time Buccaneer saw Falman, he was running with the new recruits. He wasn't surprised that he'd put a foot wrong and been put under discipline. He had to admit, though, that despite being in his forties, the Second Lieutenant was keeping up well, staying in the middle of the pack instead of with the stragglers.

"Falman!" Buccaneer called, as he approached his position.

Falman peeled off. "Yes sir?"

"What was your infraction?"

"No infraction, sir."

Buccaneer scowled. He was sure Falman was splitting hairs and he was tempted to double whatever his punishment was just for being a smart ass.

"I am not aware of being in violation of any rules," Falman added, seeing the scowl. "The doctor told me it is not permitted to run alone outside, so I'm running with the recruits. Is that contrary to the regs here, sir?"

"No, Falman, it isn't," Buccaneer answered and he began to feel a glimmer of respect for the man. "Carry on."

Falman rejoined the pack with the stragglers.

* * *

Buccaneer wasn't surprised the next time he saw Falman. Most of the combat ratings sparred once a week. Falman was in a group that was taking turns in hand-to-hand combat. He had chosen, or been selected into, a group that matched his skill level well. His sparring, like his shooting and running, was exactly average for a combat soldier at Briggs.

Buccaneer approached Falman's group. "Who wants to spar with me?" he asked.

Sometimes, men from the most advanced group would actually volunteer, despite the surety of painful defeat, to improve their fighting skills or for bragging rights. But no one in this middling group did. Buccaneer had wondered if Falman would and approved when he didn't, although he was also faintly disappointed. He'd been starting to peg Falman as a wannabe hero.

"Falman," Buccaneer ordered. "You!"

Falman stepped forward, sweating. "Er, yes sir."

Buccaneer circled the man and Falman turned with him, keeping him in sight. The captain rushed in and knocked Falman off his feet. The other man rolled and came up to a crouch immediately. He was too slow to counter Buccaneer's next move as well, which flattened him again, but once more he managed to roll and return to a crouch.

The last blow, however, Falman didn't even see. When he regained consciousness, Buccaneer said, "Get yourself checked out by the doctor." Anything that resulted in broken bones, excessive bleeding or loss of consciousness required a pass from the doctor before returning to duty.

* * *

Vato waited for the doctor to have time for him. He was bruised, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

"Next," the doctor said, and Vato went into the examination room.

She remembered him from her standard briefing to new transfers about the cold, but was mildly impressed that she had not seen him since. Most newbies ended up in her exam room for cold-related injuries within the first month. Falman hadn't. And it wasn't because he'd avoided the cold - he'd just understood and taken the necessary precautions.

"What are you here for?" the doctor asked, seeing nothing obvious.

"I lost consiousness during a sparring match with Captain Buccaneer."

"You didn't stay down the first time he decked you," she said. It was a statement, not a question. She shone a light in first one eye, then the next.

"No, ma'am," Falman answered. He saw no sign of rank, so he assumed she was a civilian. "Is that the recommended course of action?"

"It is for Buccaneer. He doesn't stop until you're down and you stay down. Some guys like to see how long they can stay standing. I didn't figure you for that type."

"Surely, in a combat situation you don't want your soldiers to play dead," Vato objected.

"Don't ask me. I don't pretend to understand it. I'm a doctor, not a combat soldier."

She finished the examination. "Check back with me in a week. I want to make sure there are no long term effects." She entered a note in his file.

Falman was at the door when she called him back. "Falman?"

"Yes doctor?"

"You're not a combat soldier either. What were you doing sparring with Buccaneer?"

"I was in one of the sparring groups and he singled me out."

"But why were you in one of the sparring groups in the first place?"

"I want to maintain my fitness for combat."

"How many times did he hit you before he knocked you out?"

"Three times. He knocked me out on the third."

"Respectable," she said, smiling. "Next week. Check back."

* * *

The next time Buccaneer saw Falman, he shot down an icicle to stun a monster so they could push him outside. He wasn't surprised. The man had been expecting to be thrown into combat since he got there.


	2. Orders

**Orders**

When Vato checked in at North City, he was handed a packet with a further change in his orders, directing him on to Briggs to report to Major Scimitar. Also included in the packet was something he had long ago given up expecting: a promotion letter. He was now a Second Lieutenant. The packet even included some stars to sew on his epaulettes. It was one of the easy ranks to update: just add a single star to the thin middle yellow ribbon. No ribbons to change, no existing stars to move.

Vato understood the transfer to Briggs. That was the place in the north where he was most likely to be exposed to combat. He figured that Breda would end up on the Creta border and Fuery on the Aerugo border. Mustang and Hawkeye were in a combat zone of their own, facing the homunculi. Havoc was the only one of them who was unlikely to be exposed directly to danger, but Vato didn't begrudge him the cost he'd paid for that.

He went to the room he'd been assigned in the BOQ for the night, where he'd stay before going on to Briggs the next day. When he got there, he took off his jacket and got out his sewing kit to sew on the stars.

Why had they promoted him? Did Briggs really have no open positions rated for Warrant Officers? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was just Bradley's idea of a joke. No promotions for over ten years and now he'd gotten one just when he'd been sent away from Mustang and possibly into combat? Yes, that was probably it. _And it's just like me to take this long to figure out the joke._

This promotion would set the new record for lack of celebration. Vato was a stranger in a town where he knew absolutely no one. Well, at least he'd go somewhere in town for dinner, instead of the Mess Hall. And if he could find an indoor pay phone with some privacy, he'd call Mom and ... whoever he could reach from Mustang's office, including the Colonel himself.

As it turned out, Vato found a phone and talked to his mom, but wasn't able to get anyone else. He sent the same telegram to Central HQ, South HQ, West HQ, and Havoc General Store out east with different addressees: Transferred Briggs stop Commanding officer Major Scimitar stop Promoted Second Lieutenant stop.

* * *

When Vato got to Briggs the next morning, he checked in at the Admin office and received his inprocessing packet. It included maps of the various levels of the fortress and how to get to his rooms in its BOQ section. An enlisted man had been tasked with taking his luggage to his quarters, so Vato had only his briefcase with the packet and some papers with him.

He showed up at Major Scimitar's staff room at 1350, ten minutes before he was scheduled to report. A brown-haired Warrant Officer with thin mustaches and a square goatee, not quite as light-skinned as Vato, waved him to a chair next to the door and went back to a table that reminded Vato of Fuery's. The Communications officer, then. Although there were four tables in the room, all of which appeared to be in use, his was the only one occupied at the moment.

At 1400 on the dot, the Major looked up from the work on his desk. "Falman?" he called.

Vato went to the desk and saluted. "Second Lieutenant Falman, reporting for duty, sir." It sounded good to use his new rank.

Scimitar returned the salute casually but precisely. The major's hair was black and his mustache merged into his short, neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were like Mustang's, very dark and almond shaped, and his skin was brown like Lieutenant General Raven's from Central. "Sit down, please," he said, looking at a folder that Vato imagined was his personnel file.

"What is your specialty?" he asked.

"Intelligence, sir. Specifically, military history," Vato answered.

"We don't need anyone else in Intelligence," said the Major, looking at the folder. "And you're not rated for combat." He paused, then added, "And no technical skills."

Vato was beginning to be annoyed at the officer's rudeness. The major had yet to address him by his rank. Once people had worked together awhile, they tended to drop the rank sometimes, but Colonel Mustang used it even among his own subordinates more often than not.

After a few moments the Major seemed to finish looking at the file. "Well then, maintenance it is. Report to Second Lieutenant Henschel. Warrant Officer Karley, have someone come up to show Falman where to go."

Now Vato knew the Major was being deliberately rude.

"Sir," he said, calmly but with authority, "I know where the Maintenance offices are. Level 1, Corrider B, Hall B-4. The closest elevator on this level is in Corrider H, Hall H-1. That's out this office to the left and left again at the second hall. It's on the right side."

The Major smiled unpleasantly. "So you were expecting to be put in Maintenance, Falman?"

"No sir," Vato answered. "I just read the maps they gave me when I checked in this morning."

"So where's the Power Plant?" the Major asked. On getting another correct reply from Falman, he asked for two other locations.

"Very well," Scimitar said finally. "Warrant Officer, it looks like we don't need a guide. Second Lieutenant Falman, report to Second Lieutenant Henschel. You're dismissed."

Vato smiled very slightly and saluted before heading for the door.

"What do you think of that, Karley?" Scimitar asked after Falman had left. "He must have spent all morning memorizing the map."

The Warrant Officer nodded. "At least he prepares, sir," he answered.

* * *

**Author's Note**

This is the same Major Scimitar from The Toll.

The description of Major Scimitar is based on the officer to Captain Buccaneer's left, in a picture of Buccaneer leading a group of Briggs soldiers. I don't know where the picture is from, but I think it might be from the Brotherhood anime.

The Supermarine Scimitar was a British naval fighter aircraft operated by the Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm. The prototype for the eventual production version flew in January 1956 and production aircraft were delivered in 1957. It saw service with the Royal Navy from 1958 until 1969.


End file.
